Gunsight Pass eBook

An hour later the secretary announced to the three
men in the Pullman the decision of his chief.

“Mr. Graham has instructed me to tell you gentlemen
he’ll look into your proposition. I am
wiring an oil expert in Denver to return with you to
Malapi. If his report is favorable, Mr. Graham
will cooperate with you in developing the field.”

CHAPTER XXXI

TWO ON THE HILLTOPS

It was the morning after his return. Emerson
Crawford helped himself to another fried egg from
the platter and shook his knife at the bright-eyed
girl opposite.

“I tell you, honey, the boy’s a wonder,”
he insisted. “Knows what he wants and goes
right after it. Don’t waste any words.
Don’t beat around the bush. Don’t
let any one bluff him out. Graham says if I don’t
want him he’ll give him a responsible job pronto.”

The girl’s trim head tilted at her father in
a smile of sweet derision. She was pleased, but
she did not intend to say so.

“I believe you’re in love with Dave Sanders,
Dad. It’s about time for me to be jealous.”

Crawford defended himself. “He’s
had a hard row to hoe, and he’s comin’
out fine. I aim to give him every chance in the
world to make good. It’s up to us to stand
by him.”

“If he’ll let us.” Joyce jumped
up and ran round the table to him. They were
alone, Keith having departed with a top to join his
playmates. She sat on the arm of his chair, a
straight, slim creature very much alive, and pressed
her face of flushed loveliness against his head.
“It won’t be your fault, old duck, if
things don’t go well with him. You’re
good—­the best ever—­a jim-dandy
friend. But he’s so—­so—­Oh,
I don’t know—­stiff as a poker.
Acts as if he doesn’t want to be friends, as
if we’re all ready to turn against him.
He makes me good and tired, Dad. Why can’t
he be—­human?”

“Now, Joy, you got to remember—­”

“—­that he was in prison and had an
awful time of it. Oh, yes, I remember all that.
He won’t let us forget it. It’s just
like he held us off all the time and insisted on us
not forgetting it. I’d just like to shake
the foolishness out of him.” A rueful little
laugh welled from her throat at the thought.

“He cayn’t be gay as Bob Hart all at onct.
Give him time.”

“You’re so partial to him you don’t
see when he’s doing wrong. But I see it.
Yesterday he hardly spoke when I met him. Ridiculous.
It’s all right for him to hold back and be kinda
reserved with outsiders. But with his friends—­you
and Bob and old Buck Byington and me—­he
ought not to shut himself up in an ice cave.
And I’m going to tell him so.”

The cattleman’s arm slid round her warm young
body and drew her close. She was to him the dearest
thing in the world, a never-failing, exquisite wonder
and mystery. Sometimes even now he was amazed
that this rare spirit had found the breath of life
through him.